Goddamn it, Cronen. Leaving me to feed the wolves like that...

The sun rose high over Serenti, heating up the sea in which Joshua had made his hasty exit and illuminating a town with many questions. The cobblestone streets shone brightly, soaking in the heat that would keep them warm long after the sun set in the west. The scatterblast buildings of marble and granite almost spoke to the ageless history of the Coronian architecture, but their citizens now wanted to speak to something - or someone - a lot more tangible. The people of this history steeped town had witnessed and hosted much in the last day or two; a range of the glorious, the pedestrian, and the vile. Now, Cronen had left Shinsou the centre of attention, a problem which the Telgradian would now have to shake off. The Brotherhood leader had made plans that would move him up in the world, pulling him up from his bootstraps into the realm of Althanas's elite. The way he wanted to do things, though, meant that being in the public glare was only ever going to be to his detriment.

Perhaps, though, there was a benefit to this newfound popularity. To be revered would be more than a clever façade. After today Shinsou would be infamous, wealthy, and very busy extending both the reach and the presence of his Brotherhood beyond the Whitevale compound. People would know his name, even fear it. Shinsou Vaan Osiris; Thayne-slayer? The truth was far from the inevitable hearsay, but that didn't matter.

As Storm Veritas once said: "after today we would be called many names, but average would never be one of them again."

He popped back and forth from foot to foot, a nervous tic in the midst of the large gathering of people all asking questions, before settling into his skin. A few drops of sweat ran down his fingers. In his hand, the beads ran down a piece of Draconus's hide, which Shinsou had remembered to sever after Cronen returned to Am'aleh's embrace. Holding it up before the gathering, Osiris's golden eyes veered over the crowds that stood taut and wild.

"Citizens of Serenti," Shinsou shouted loud enough for those at the back to hear, "For the last few days you have played host to a violent game of chess; a game that was neither of your choosing to participate in nor in your interests to host. A cult of Terrinore escapees, guided and aided by the Thayne, Draconus, used this fine town as a base to hide away from justice. They killed men here, good men, and believed they had licence to hold sway over you to avoid answering for their crimes."

Shinsou felt his heart beat like a bass drum in his chest but his confidence grew. The group had taken their time to come round and some of them still listened nervously, but it was clear from the murmering that there was a positive reception for his words. Catching eyes with one particular man, the Telgradian continued and prepared to feed them the white lie. In line with Cronen's intentions, Shinsou would willingly step into the limelight, but it wasn't without gratitude to his friend's enormous contribution.

"The Brotherhood of the Castigars came here to liberate you from the Lunatic of Serenti, from the Terrinore escapees and from Draconus himself. Here, in my hand," The Telgradian raised the bloodied hide of the fallen Thayne to the sky, "I hold the proof of that victory. Draconus is dead, the Terrinore inmates have been annihilated and your freedom is restored."

One sceptic, an elderly lady, heckled from the back. "What is it you want from us? You militia types are never satisfied unless there's a reward."

Shinsou smiled reassuringly.

"We ask for nothing in return, only that you spread the word that the Brotherhood serve the people of Corone under Am'aleh's grace and protection. Furthermore, the Brotherhood is to contribute to Serenti a sum of gold to cover the funerals of your dead. They should be honoured as heroes and buried with the respect they deserve. In the wake of such vile acts, examples need to be set today by those who know better. Go to your homes; mourn your dead and know that the Brotherhood and Am'aleh stand shoulder to shoulder with the people of Serenti.”

Shinsou marvelled at his public performance as the crowds reacted warmly to his announcement. The Brotherhood were the new alpha that had been established in Serenti, a gift from Cronen, while Draconus and his cult was now consigned to the ashes of time. A congratulatory hand from one guard fell upon the mage’s shoulder as Shinsou pivoted, standing tall and satisfied with his speech, before walking off. He didn't want to do a diservice to Joshua by naming him when he clearly wanted anonymity, but at least by footing the bill for the dead's funerals the Brotherhood had found another contribution they could make to honour his friend's deed.

Finally feeling the weight of tiredness and pain from his half-healed shoulder bear on him, Shinsou rubbed a sore eye with his knuckle and rubbed at his forehead furiously to stave off the approaching fatigue, at least for a few more moments. He had been up for god-knows how long and had given everything he could to their task, both physically and mentally. That was the difference between him and Cronen; between a mortal and a demi-god. The Telgradian had come to realise that in his current state he was a mere pion; so much fragile flesh in the face of the overwhelming power of the gods. That level couldn't be reached, not yet, but that was a worry for another time.

That takes care of the public Q&A. Now, there's one more issue to deal with...

With the end of the beginning in sight, Shinsou was determined to finish one last errand before heading for more comfortable lodgings and the promise of a solid night’s sleep.

I hope you didn't think I'd forgotten about you, Hierophant.

As the townspeople dispersed into cracks in the city, Shinsou set off down an alleyway with that woman firmly in his mind. The Hierophant had protection from arcane detection and had outwitted them the first time before finding herself on the wrong end of the Shackles of Titan.

What hides behind that mask?

Shinsou snaked through a network of side streets and alleyways that led out of Serenti and back towards the sea, just to the east of Draconus's dissoving corpse. You were never far from Am'aleh's domain in Corone. The scent of it was always there, a powerful, salty whiff that incensed the nostrils and cleared the senses. On the coast leading up the bell tower, where the wind was high and blowing from the south, the waves shattered on the rock wall of the cliff face and spray rattled over the debris of the weathered heights. As the Telgradian approached the open maw where a door used to be, one that now rested in splinters in the centre of the ground floor room thanks to Joshua, he could see a masked, sleeping figure propped up against the pillar she had been chained to a couple of hours ago.

The shade that sheltered the Hierophant started to give way to Stygian's eternal light, but the glow did little to alleviate the haunting atmosphere that now washed over the captive.

"Get up." The command was short and to the point.

Wearily, the Hierophant struggled to her knees, the shackles intended to subdue Cronen still binding her. Shinsou grabbed the mask and tore it off with one straight pull. He was surprised to see a normal face gazing blearily back at him; one that could easily have belonged to anyone he had ever come across. She had green eyes, milky white skin and high cheekbones.

"Draconus and the Terrinore in-mates are dead." Shinsou muttered, somewhat triumphantly.

"I know. I felt their lives drain from their bodies." The Hierophant replied nonchalantly. She didn't make eye contact with the Telgradian, who paced the room. "...and now you're here to extinguish mine."

The outrage that the Telgradian had displayed before for her was a type of emotion that anyone rarely saw from Shinsou. It was clear that she saw death coming to collect on her missed opportunity because surviving the fallout from her failure felt like anything but a guarantee. Yet, as she prepared for the taste of cold steel or magical fury, none was forthcoming.

"What's your name, Hierophant? Your real name, that is?"

The question threw her. Her name? Why would her executioner need to know such a paltry, trivial thing at this juncture? Her expression gave away her surprise to the pacing Brotherhood leader, who held his chin in his hand. Eventually, softly, she gave him a cautious reply.

"Jehuty."

"Well, Jehuty," Shinsou started, sheathing Stygian into its ivory sheath, "I am going to let you in on something. I can count on one hand the amount of times someone got the drop on me. But Joshua Cronen? We are talking about a demi-god amongst mortals. I watched him crack Draconus's skull like an eggshell, and yet somehow, some way, you got the better of not just me, but him. I'm going to ask you one time; why couldn't we sense you?"

Jehuty shrugged. "I don't know."

"In that case," Shinsou said, slumping next to her, "You have two options. Option one is that you accept your failure and die with some shred of honour. Option two?"

Jehuty raised an eyebrow, lifting her chin for the first time to meet Shinsou's eyes. They were fierce, but not angry. No. They held a golden intrigue, a curiosity that probed her being.

"Come and work for me."

Tired, covered in mud, blood, soot and still in pain from his ravaged shoulder, Shinsou was in no mood for pleasantries or a half-assed interrogation. From the sunken shoulders of his captive, he expected her to be similarly motivated to seek shower, suds, and sleep in the comfort of a Whitevale barracks.

Out of Character:
Spoils request: Draconus's Hide

A piece of ancient dragonscale the size of Shinsou's chest that can be used as raw material for a torso-sized piece of equipment